


La Petite Mort

by hiensou



Category: Free!
Genre: 12k of haru being absolutely shameless and makoto blushing & blushing & blushing some more, Alternate Universe - Sex Shop, Dildos, M/M, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-31 00:59:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3958477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiensou/pseuds/hiensou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“And as for the knots...”<br/>“N-No need for that!” Makoto shot up straight, clenching the packaging in between his hands, “I-I was a scout as a kid, so I know all about knots! Haha!” he laughed nervously, scurrying over to the costume shelf with the rope before his body had the time to even think about raising a tent in his pants. So to speak.<br/>Haru simply smirked from behind the counter.</p><p>(In which Haru works at a sex shop, and Makoto is most definitely <i>not</i> a sex toy maniac.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	La Petite Mort

“Don't be such a prude, Makoto.”

“Yeah! Live a little!”

“Live?!” Makoto spluttered, scandalised by his friends' prurient perception of _living_ , “I'm sorry guys, but I don't see why not wanting to enter a sex shop makes me anything but _decent_ and _virtuous_.”

Rin and Nagisa rolled their eyes, as per usual the most in sync when it was a matter of Makoto's dignity—or more so, the diminution thereof.

Makoto sighed, knowing this battle was futile. In the end, his friends had the determination of a pair of angered gods, spirits fiery and imperturbable, which collided just perfectly with Makoto's tendency to avoid conflict and please others, even at his own expense.

He glanced up at the luminous red of the shop's sign. Even the font screamed of sin. Yet, Makoto couldn't help but find the way his stomach rolled with unease rather ridiculous; he didn't  have to buy anything, after all. Of course, that was the purpose of this visit, but it wasn't as if his friends could force him to waste his money on sex gadgets. In addition, he was certain that seeing his face match the shop sign in colour and hearing his voice pitch dangerously high from the sight of whatever hid inside the little store, would be enough to satisfy his friends' obscene sense of humour.

With another sigh (extra deep and drawn-out to _really_ convey his dismay) Makoto pressed a hand against the front door and walked inside. He heard the hushed laughter of Nagisa and Rin from behind, accompanied with “Way to go, Mako-chan!” and “A bet is a bet!”

The store looked pretty much like he had expected, yet it caught him off guard. Rows upon rows of sex toys, lingerie and handbooks on all kinds of lewd subjects stretched out around him, and he stopped in the middle of the room and blinked a few times before his body seemed to register the situation. His face heated considerably.

Nagisa and Rin strutted further in and began to look through the various items, switching between snorts and giggles at the ludicrous sizes and shapes of the toys, to nodding approvingly and nudging the other in recommendation. This, too, was precisely what Makoto had expected, but once again he was in a state of shock, rooted to the ground with pearls of sweat emerging along his hairline.

A voice brought him out of his trance.

“Need any help?”

It took a few seconds for Makoto to realise the voice was addressing _him_ , but once he did, he turned his head so sharply  his brain could have done a three-sixty, and he was met with what was perhaps the most gorgeous man he had ever laid eyes on.

The man stood to the right of the entrance, behind the counter with his elbows rested atop it, eyes half-lidded with boredom but azure like gemstones nonetheless. His hair fell slightly across his face, coal in colour with a velvety shine, and it contrasted in an absolutely lovely way with the white of his skin. He wasn't by any means pale, but considerably lighter than Makoto himself, looking as if he might as well have been made of porcelain. Makoto struggled not to reach out and touch to confirm the opposite.

“Oh, no thank you,” he said, voice cracking a little by the end, “I'm—we're just looking.”

“Okay.” said the man, nodding once before his eyes fell to the magazine he had spread out before him. His lashes were long, making it seem as if his eyes were closed altogether when he looked down. Makoto swallowed dryly.

“Mako-chan, look at this!” Nagisa hollered from the other end of the store, and Makoto winced  at the sudden call of his name. Although the pretty clerk wasn't looking anymore, Makoto nodded to him out of natural courtesy, before hurrying over to where his friends were inspecting what could only be described as a positively _colossal_ dildo. Makoto yelped quietly at the sight, scrunching his nose at the unnatural pink colour and the added bush of hair around the base. Rin snorted loudly at Makoto's reaction, shoving the toy towards his face and causing Makoto to jump backwards.

“Rin! _Please_...”

“Sorry, sorry,” laughed the redhead, putting the phallic object back on the shelf. “See anything you like yet?” he then asked with a teasing edge to his words.

Makoto felt as if his clothes were beginning to stick to his body. _Actually, yes..._

“He hasn't even looked around yet,” said Nagisa, “Come over here, Mako-chan, they have these costumes I bet you'll love.”

“Costumes?” Makoto questioned, “What makes you think I...”

“I know you have it in you,” Nagisa interrupted with a dismissive wave of his hand, dragging Makoto by the sleeve over to a shelf to the right of the counter. Makoto gulped. Police uniforms, maid outfits, and audacious nurse dresses were all in front of him. And the cute cashier was behind him. He swore he could feel that cobalt stare stinging his neck as he picked up a fireman uniform with trepidation. The man on the front wore what Makoto knew was not a legitimate outfit for a fireman, but the daring pose he was in suggested he didn't actually intend to fight any fires, save for figurative ones, perhaps.

“Not as bulky as your own, is it?” Rin murmured from his side, crossing his arms. “You're into this? Man, don't you know you're not supposed to bring your work home, especially not into the bedroom?”

“I was just looking,” Makoto elbowed his friend lightly, “They're really inaccurate...”

“That's kind of the point, Mako-chan. They're supposed to come off easily and all that.” Nagisa tore the costume from his hands, replacing it with a pair of cat ears.

Makoto blinked down at the little tiara. “T-This is an entire costume?”

“It comes with a tail, paw mittens, bell collar and fake whiskers,” came that same monotone voice from behind him, and Makoto turned around. “There are additional items as well: lace collars, a paw-shaped vibrator, special lubrica—”

“I'm good, I'm good!” Makoto shook his head rapidly, forcing a smile despite the beaming flush of his face.

He hurried to put the cat ears back on the shelf. Nagisa and Rin were already elsewhere, looking through the collection of porn movies. Makoto sighed, stroking his forehead.

“How can there be so many horrible things in one little shop...” he murmured to himself.

“We have vanilla as well, if that's what you prefer. It's in that room over there,” the voice of the cashier was suddenly right next to him, and Makoto flinched violently, nearly swallowing his tongue in embarrassment of having been heard by the man. “And out the back we have some seriously hardcore stuff, but I guess you're not into that.”

“I-I-I'm fine, t-thank you!” Makoto fiddled with the hem of his shirt, locking eyes with the man despite himself. It was, somehow, easier than looking at all the other things in there.

Up until now, the man had seemed thoroughly apathetic towards Makoto and his obvious discomfort, but now, the hint of an amused smile caressed the cashier's lips. It made Makoto calm down considerably, even with his heart-rate increasing tenfold.

“This is your first time in a sex shop, isn't it?”

Makoto nodded wordlessly.

“Figured,” said the man, and then retreated to his position behind the counter. He offered no words in attempt to calm Makoto down, nor much of an articulate reaction to the brunet's current state, but his taciturnity only made him all the more intriguing, Makoto found.

None of the three men bought anything from the store, but as Makoto had predicted, the devils he called friends were satisfied enough with having seen him tormented.

Makoto, on the other hand, wasn't satisfied in the least. Rather the opposite: he came home that night with the memory of calm blue looking up, steadily poised, and the corners of thin, faintly pink lips turning slightly upwards, just for him. He spent two hours unable to go to sleep, mind relentlessly recalling every word uttered in that smooth voice and every blink of those dark lashes, and it wasn't until he had taken care of a very prominent issue farther _south_ of his restless head that he was able to drift off, feeling dirtier than any sex shop he could imagine. 

* * *

 

A week later, Makoto's resolve had collapsed completely.

He had promised his friends they'd all get together the night his shift ended, but couldn't help but cancel their plans with the poor excuse of having caught a cold. Both Rin and Nagisa were more attentive than they were often given credit for, but he somehow made them believe him with a pair of fingers squeezing his nose and an occasional fake cough against his phone.

The moment he was out of the fire station, he hurried home, showered and changed his clothes, before driving off to where he remembered the sex shop to be. All the way there he was tapping his foot restlessly against the floor of the car, gnawing at his bottom lip and going through his mental plan from start to finish at least a hundred times. This did not make him feel any more ready nor less guilty, however.

He stood outside staring at the neon sign for about ten minutes before finally working up the courage to walk through the door, and this time, the endless rows of dildos and DVDs did not shock him quite as much. Luckily, the same dark-haired man was behind the counter, once again reading a magazine with what looked like great disinterest.

He looked up from beneath the very lashes Makoto had thought about for seven nights in a row now, as the little bell above the door chimed to announce Makoto's arrival. His eyes lingered on Makoto for a few long seconds before he realised why he recognised the guest, and his eyebrows shot up above his bangs.

“Hello again,” Makoto said apprehensively, raising a hand and smiling at the other man. All he got in response was a nod and, if his admittedly flawed eyesight didn't deceive him, a faint blush. This, somehow, made Makoto feel a bit bolder.

For about two minutes or so, he scanned the store nonchalantly. Makoto was surprised with how well he played off being unbothered by the indecency displayed before him. Internally, the massive plastic penises and the posters of exposed breasts made him cringe a bit. He didn't particularly find it all that _wrong,_ per se, but it wasn't something he was used to, and it'd definitely take some time to _get_ used to. He did not plan to do so, however, as he had firmly decided this was going to be his last ever visit to this particular store.

Soon he reached the shelf he was looking for (but was pretending not to be), and he inspected the different toys carefully, a sheen of sweat coating his brow. He could only go so long, palming himself to release with the black-haired clerk on his mind. He needed something else, something more similar to, well, the real deal. He couldn't very well ask the man to come home with him, though, and so Makoto was forced to go with his much dreaded but surely practical plan B.

Thus, here he was, sorting through the various dildos offered by La Petite Mort and trying his best not to let embarrassment suffocate him. Having a coughing fit—or worse, falling to the floor choking—would certainly only make this situation worse.

He had decided to handle this smoothly. The cashier seemed indifferent either way, so what was the point of getting so worked up? Then again, the man did not know what kind of things he had been doing in Makoto's mind this last week.

Suddenly, the sound of somebody clearing their throat reached Makoto's ears. Once again, the cashier had noiselessly slid up beside him and was looking up through those rather suggestive eyelashes.

“Need any help?”

Makoto collected himself briefly and offered a calm smile. “No, thank you.” he managed without his voice cracking even once, and the sense of pride that washed over him made his nerves ease a bit.

“Okay,” came the anticipated reply, before the man returned to his seat once more. Makoto chuckled lightly to himself at the repetition of last week's scenario.

He eventually settled for a beige, hair-less kind, the most averagely sized he could find. He didn't dare to try anything bigger, but wanted to avoid being disappointed too, and so he went with what he figured had to be a safe choice.

His cheeks were burning as he paid for the toy, and he found himself unable to look the gorgeous clerk in the eye, but bid him goodbye with as normal a voice as he could muster.

“Welcome back, mister...” the cashier began as Makoto was walking toward the door, and without thinking, he turned back around and offered his first name to the man.

“Makoto,” he said with a smile.

“Mr. Makoto.”

“Oh,” he blinked at the other, “No, Makoto is my first name.”

The man looked taken aback, obviously appalled by the instant skip to first-name basis. The creamy hue of his cheeks seemed to darken into a dusty scarlet once again, but Makoto wasn't sure if he could believe his eyes this time around, either.

“Okay then,” said the man, “See you around, Makoto.”

Makoto nodded and shifted his weight to the other leg awkwardly, palm clutching the handle of his plastic bag tautly.

“You... You can call me Haru,” came the reciprocity, finally, and Makoto bit his bottom lip trying not to break into a grin of pure joy.

Well. There was no doubt he'd be coming back now. 

* * *

 

Makoto was quick to exercise ownership of his newly purchased toy, and he put it to use more frequently than he'd dare admit. Still, there was a distant voice at the back of his head, arguing that there was a greater pleasure out there, one that came with soft raven hair, soothing sapphire eyes and an incontestable grace. (And there were additional items as well': possibly angelic laughter, shared secrets or interests, borrowed clothing and long dinners.)

Unfortunately, as far as Makoto believed, this was simply not an option. Nevertheless, he was too weak not to see Haru again, and showed up at the store only five days later.

He set the doorbell ringing as he entered, and for the first time since he had met Haru, a soft “Hello,” greeted him that made Makoto smile and think, _well, third time's a charm_.

“Hi again,” Makoto replied, clenching and unclenching his fists nervously. Haru watched him as he made his way farther into the room, once again loitering by the shelves as if he didn't know what he was looking for. This time it wasn't an act, though. Or at least, not entirely; he was here to see Haru, after all, but he didn't know what to buy. Or if he should really buy anything at all. He didn't want to Haru to think he was some sort of sex maniac.

...Although, his fiasco of a first meeting might have undermined the possibility of that impression.

Makoto smiled at the now familiar throat-clearing coming from beside him. He counted the seconds in his head until, “Need any help?”

Swallowing thickly, the brunet turned and offered a sheepish smile. “Yes, if you don't mind.”

The 'okay' was at the tip of Haru's tongue, but he discarded it at the last second and thought, _well, third time's a charm_.

 

 

“What about this one?”

“It looks exactly the same as the last one?”

Haru shook his head and pressed a button, making the long, purple toy in his hands splutter to life and vibrate softly against his fingers. Makoto stifled a shriek. “It has five different settings,” Haru explained, pressing the button again to make the quakes intensify. He did this three more times, and once he reached the fifth setting, the fake penis shook enough to actually bounce right out of his hand. Being used to this kind of incident, Haru quickly caught it with his other hand and turned it off.

Makoto swallowed, feeling undeniably hot all of a sudden. He had found that with each toy Haru presented to him, rather than imagining how much fun he himself could have with it, the imagery in his head consisted of a certain soft-spoken store clerk, enjoying these various shapes and sizes with upturned eyebrows, goosebumps and whiny exclaims. This was exactly the kind of thoughts Makoto knew he should not have been having. While he was pleased to get to spend time with Haru, he had never before fought quite so hard to keep himself from popping a boner.

What he did not know, however, was that Haru was going through something strikingly similar. While the toys themselves did nothing to rattle his usual self-control (what with him being surrounded by them daily), Makoto continued to drop what Haru guessed to be entirely unintentional innuendos, and they never failed to make the cashier's mind wander. What further worsened his plight was the fact that Makoto was so indubitably, excruciatingly, _wonderfully_ attractive that Haru had admittedly considered jumping him then and there, regardless of who might walk in on them.

God. This was so unlike him.

“I think this one's pretty cool,” Makoto laughed a little, juggling a rather short but thick faux dick from hand to hand, before stopping to press the button that made the toy light up in different colours. _Almost like a child,_ Haru mused internally.

“The light is pretty useless, except that it comes with a remote control, so if you lose it, you can make it light up and find it easier. But,” Haru reached out for another one of the same girth as the one in Makoto's hands, albeit with a vibrating option rather than a so-called ‘party mode'. “If that's the shape you're looking for, I think this one's better.”

“Does it glow in the dark?” Makoto challenged jokingly, before laughing and shrugging helplessly. “I don't know, Haru. Which one would you like?” he turned the disco stick on again, “I think you'd like mine.”

“I... What?”

“The one I'm holding.” Makoto wagged a finger in the air. “Yours is more expensive. You're just trying to fish the money right out of my pocket, aren't you?”

Haru snorted. “Oh. You mean. Oh.”

“Hm?”

“Nothing. No, I'm not 'fishing from your pocket.' I just thought vibrating was more useful than... luminescence.”

“I guess you're right,” Makoto admitted his defeat, a certain pink to his cheeks. He put the Disco Stick 2000 back on the shelf and accepted Haru's offer, a little sad that they seemed to have reached an end to their together-time.

“Anything else you need?” Haru asked, beginning to walk toward the counter. Makoto followed unhurriedly, shrugging his shoulders.

“I don't think so.” _I didn't need anything to begin with._

“We lowered the prices on condoms and lubrication just yesterday, if you're interested in any of those.”

“Ah,” Makoto scratched his chin, still feeling awkward talking about these things despite having spent the last hour discussing pros and cons of different phallic sex toys. “Um. L-Lube, maybe?”

“Sure thing,” Haru nodded, before disappearing beneath the counter and emerging again with a light blue bottle, the front of which had a photo of an ocean at sunset. Makoto raised his eyebrows. “This one'll make you glide like a dolphin.”

Makoto bit his lip trying not to snort. Somehow, that comment struck him as so incredibly _Haru_ , despite Makoto not knowing much else about him beyond the fact that he was a store clerk at a sex shop.

“It's my favourite. And it's half off.”

“Well, if it's your favourite,” Makoto laughed lightly, “I wouldn't want you to be displeased.”

Haru felt heat flare from his face all the way to his ears. _What exactly is he hinting at...?_ “That'll be a total of ¥5,100, please.”

Makoto plucked his card from his wallet before seeming to realise something, cheeks darkening, and fingers trembling slightly as they put it back in its little slot and pulled out a few bills instead. Haru smirked to himself, understanding that Makoto probably didn't want the name of the shop to show up on his credit card bill.

The brunet looked around as Haru put the bills in the cash register and printed Makoto's receipt. Next to the costumes was a new shelf in cardboard and all the colours of the rainbow, displaying tiny objects in different shapes, all with cables attached to them. Makoto squinted his eyes and tilted his head to the side. “Hey, what are those cute little statues over there?”

Haru simply blinked at him as if he had seen an alien, before pointing to the big, round sign above the shelf.

Makoto's face coloured for the nth time that day as he read the 'This Week Only: Novelty Butt-Plugs – New Shapes! Extra Low Prices - Extra High Settings!'

“...Oh.” was all Makoto could formulate.

“You really don't know a lot about these things, do you?”

With a nervous chuckle, Makoto took his bag from Haru and began to back away toward the door. “Not a clue,” he breathed in faux exasperation at himself and let out a laugh, “Good thing I've got you to teach me, huh?”

Haru's throat clenched up momentarily and he concluded that, laugh or no laugh, this guy was showering Haru with way too many innuendos for it to be wholly accidental and innocent. So he bid Makoto farewell with the customary ‘welcome back’, and decided that two could most definitely play this game. 

* * *

 

The next time Makoto came in—which was only two days later—Haru was fully prepared to launch his counter-attack, the artillery of which lay hidden beneath the magazine splayed out on the counter. There was a warm flutter in his gut when the face he had been waiting for for the past two days finally appeared in his little work space, fully equipped with a guilty smile and that default warmth in his droopy eyes. Haru could see him swallowing before he nodded once and greeted the other man, and Haru simply nodded back, extra quiet now that there were other customers in the store.

Save for the first time, Makoto and Haru had had the privilege of meeting without any third-party disturbance each time. Now, however, Makoto's footsteps were accompanied not only by the customary music playing indistinctly in the shop, but also by the footsteps and murmurs of two middle aged men going through the DVD section.

Makoto found the idea of walking up straight to Haru a little unfitting, as he now fully realised that this was Haru's _work_. He probably didn't have the time to indulge Makoto, who was starting to frequent the place a little too often, if the brunet himself were to judge.

He walked slowly up to the costume section, rubbing the back of his neck nervously as his eyes raked the rows of different outfits. Inevitably, and absolutely inappropriately, he was unable to stop his mind from imagining these outfits on Haru, and he could practically feel his blood race faster through his veins, creating a burn in his body that further increased both the beginnings of his arousal and the very, very, _very_ deep volumes of shame within him. But, honestly, who in their right mind could look at such delicious little costumes as maid outfits and cat ears and not play mental dress-up with the breathtaking young man behind the counter? Probably no one. Or else, Makoto was rationalising his own sins.

He'd rather not stand around dwelling too much on that.

Instead of the expected “Need any help?” that Haru always snuck up on him with, there was the subtle noise of crinkling plastic coming from behind Makoto. He turned his head discreetly, eyes swelling to the size of suns at the sight of Haru unwrapping nothing less than a penis-shaped lollipop, and sliding it into his mouth unceremoniously.

 _This is so illegal_ , was all Makoto could think, and he was unsure if he was referring to Haru's current actions or his own train of thoughts. His eyes were nothing short of glued to the scenery, lips slightly parted, and he only caught himself staring once Haru did as well. Cobalt eyes shifted to look at him, half-lidded and adorned with one cocked eyebrow. Makoto quickly turned back toward the costumes, heart rapping ferociously against the inside of his chest.

Soon the other two customers seemed to have chosen what films to buy, and walked together toward the counter to pay for their selected items. Makoto pretended to be reading the instructions of one of the butt plugs (an alleged jumbo-sized one with a leopard pattern) as he kept his ears focused on the men, who were laughing and talking amongst themselves while paying.

“How's that lollipop workin' out for ya?” one of the men teased in a sultry tone, leaning far over the counter and reaching for Haru's face, the latter tilting himself backwards to avoid the touch of the man's large hand. Makoto peeked over his shoulder, feeling just about ready to grab the men by their collars and swing them out the door. Haru met their grins with a frown of his own, however, and pressed the plastic bag with their DVDs into the out-stretched hand before him, rather than his cheek.

“ _Fine_ , thank you. Now if you would please move out of the way, you're holding the line up.” Haru spoke unusually loudly, with a distinct warning in his tone. Makoto and the other two men all furrowed their brows simultaneously, as there was clearly no line whatsoever. Just then, Haru's eyes flickered over to Makoto, his scowl laced with an authoritarian demand Makoto had never seen in the cashier before.

He suddenly realised what Haru expected him to do.

Clearing his throat harshly, Makoto grabbed the closest object within reach—which happened to be a bondage rope set—and walked up briskly behind the men, raising his eyebrows expectantly. They both turned to him and frowned, before clicking their tongues and exiting the shop.

Makoto sighed and slumped down against the counter once they were out, only tearing his eyes from the glass door upon hearing a wet _pop_ from beside him. Haru was holding the lollipop in the air, it glistening with his own saliva, and looking down at the bondage rope lying on the desk before him.

“Nice choice. Didn't think you had it in you.”

Makoto laughed, colouring a bit. “Haru... You okay?”

“Yeah,” the clerk said, giving his lollipop a tiny lick, “That behaviour isn't all that uncommon with customers. Thanks, though.”

“N-No problem,” replied the brunet, forcing himself not to stare at Haru and his peccant little popsicle. Instead, his eyes fell to the packaging he had just torn from the shelf, and scoffed softly. “Wow, how do you even use these? It looks really complicated.”

“Any way you want,” Haru replied lowly, and Makoto automatically looked up again. Haru's lips were cherry red from suckling his lollipop.

“I-Is it hard?”

Haru glanced down briefly. “...Not right now?”

Makoto tilted his head in perplexity, eyes flickering down to the bondage rope and up again. It suddenly struck Haru what he had _actually_ been referring to. “Well, um. There are some advanced set-ups, I guess, but the basic ones are pretty much just...” he held his lollipop up in one hand, the other tracing his own torso languidly with a finger, showing the brunet where the rope would go. But Makoto's eyes remained locked with his own in an intense stare.

Chills went down Makoto's own body in waves, almost as if Haru's finger were on him instead.

“And as for the knots...”

“N-No need for that!” Makoto shot up straight, clenching the packaging in between his hands, “I-I was a scout as a kid, so I know all about knots! Haha!” he laughed nervously, scurrying over to the costume shelf with the rope before his body had the time to even _think_ about raising a tent in his pants. So to speak.

Haru simply smirked from behind the counter. 

* * *

 

Makoto's next visit was another three days later, and once again, they weren't the only ones in the store. This time, however, the place was a bit more packed than he had seen it before. A small hoard of teenage girls was gathered around the vibrator shelf, giggling to themselves and pointing out the odd prints and colours, and an old man was flipping through the hoard of Playboy magazines, looking over his shoulder warily every now and then as if he didn't want anyone to find out he _wasn't_ actually reading the newspaper (surprise!). Makoto also noted that for the first time since he had started coming here, Haru was accompanied by someone behind the counter. A man who looked about the same age as Haru and Makoto, with hair that resembled cotton candy both in colour and fluffiness, and a height that was slightly more generous than Haru's but still smaller than Makoto's own. He was showing Haru some type of flyer, looking very amused and _very_ comfortable with getting into Haru's personal space. The latter made no move to push him away, however, but simply stared at the flyer with a level of interest that was clearly way below zero.

Unlike the crude customer from a few days ago, this man seemingly had no intentions of neither flirting with nor intimidating Haru with his close proximity, and so Makoto smiled to himself, assuming this was just a friend of Haru's.

Haru looked up briefly and by chance spotted Makoto by the door, waving a little awkwardly. He immediately stood up and beckoned the brunet over, ignoring his friend’s pleads of “Haru! You aren't listening!”

Makoto came up to him a bit hesitantly, rubbing at his neck by habit. “Hey, Haru.”

“Makoto—”

“Ooh, who's this?” cooed the man beside Haru, kind violet eyeing Makoto up and down. “A friend of yours, Haru?”

“He's a regular.”

“...A regular?” the man scrunched his nose a bit, before his expression flourished into amusement once again.

“Haru!” Makoto laughed in slight panic. “That doesn't exactly make me sound very good.”

“ _I_ think it makes you sound _very_ good.” the light-haired man countered and reached a hand out. “I'm Kisumi, by the way. Haru's co-worker.”

“Ah, nice to meet you. I'm Makoto. Haru's. Um. Customer.”

“I gathered as much,” Kisumi chuckled lightly. “Feel free to look around, Makoto.”

Makoto nodded and was just about to answer when Haru swooped around the counter and grabbed him by the sleeve. “Not yet, I have something to show you.”

“Oh?”

Haru gently tugged at his shirt, bringing him along toward the innermost corner of the store, which was slightly secluded due to the rows of blow-up dolls jutting out from the wall. Behind the shelves, there was a desk with candy of different sorts. Makoto instantly recognised the phallic lollipops from his last visit, and pawed at his quickly heating cheek a bit while looking away.

“We got in all these new flavours the other day,” Haru explained, shuffling through the various flavours and motifs. “I need someone to try them out.”

“What, me?” Makoto spluttered a bit, “I... Why don't you or Kisumi do it?”

“I tried a few of them. I don't trust his judgement though, so it's better if you help me.” Haru held out one of the sugary stick-penises, which was perhaps one of the most bizarre images Makoto had ever been faced with, but he accepted it nonetheless.

The wrapping had a little image of an actual penis on it, with the words “Dick Popsicle – Macha Flavour” printed in bold, green letters. With a huff of laughter, Makoto began unwrapping the candy, but found himself reluctant to put the thing in his mouth.

He glanced up at Haru, ready to convey his apprehension when he realised Haru was already sucking his own lollipop contentedly. With a small sigh, Makoto finally took the candy in his mouth, trying his best not to create any lewd noises.

Haru made no such effort.

“What's, um... What's your flavour?” Makoto asked, if only to keep his mind somewhere else than completely focused on the impeccable work Haru's lips were doing.

“Strawberry.”

“Ah,” Makoto nodded, “Is it good?”

“I guess,” Haru shrugged non-committally, “Yours looks better though.”

“Want to try it?”

Haru blinked a few times, before releasing his popsicle with another rather obscene smack. “Sure. I'll suck yours and you'll suck mine.”

Makoto's eyes promptly widened and fell to the ground, and his hand trembled close to violently as he held his macha penis out for Haru to take. Instead of accepting it into his own hold, however, Haru leaned forward and started to suck on it, still in between Makoto's fingers.

“Haru...” Makoto gasped quietly, eyes positively glued to the way his tongue worked its way around the tip of the candy dick, before he sucked it harshly, hollowing his cheeks. A drop of saliva trickled down the stick of the lollipop and onto Makoto's finger, and the brunet knew for sure this was how he'd die.

“Sorry,” Haru murmured, standing back up again. He wiped at his mouth with his sleeve, before his slender fingers wrapped around Makoto's wrist, bringing his hand closer to Haru's mouth so that he could lick the escaped drool off of Makoto's skin.

Makoto felt as if his brain had been reduced to goo, and he continued to ogle the black-haired man with eyes big as plates even as the latter finished his work and went back to sucking his own berry-flavoured lollipop. 

* * *

 

Makoto had made a habit out of visiting Haru at the end of his shifts, which was about twice or so a week. He rarely ever bought anything nowadays though, but Haru never seemed to question his presence. He was, however, fairly sure that Kisumi still believed him to be some sort of sex gadget collector. He wasn't sure how to inform the man that all there was to the case was actually an extreme lust for Kisumi's few-worded co-worker. Incidentally, Makoto _had_ bought a few dildos, several kinds of lubrication, a cat-boy set and two butt-plugs (plus he had consumed way more sugar penises than his dentist would probably recommend), but the fact remained: all he wanted out of this whole ordeal was the man behind the counter. He hadn't even used half of the stuff he'd bought.

Makoto had noticed something during his last few visits though—something he found impossible to ignore. Ever since his first encounters with Haru, the latter had been driving him crazy by being insufferably sexy in ways he didn't even seem to notice himself (or so Makoto thought), but as of late, these instances had begun to decrease in number, and been replaced with wholesome conversations. Conversations about lives outside of work, about interests and memories and dreams, about how Haru wished he could live in the ocean and about how Makoto had a fear of the dark. About how Haru ended up working at a sex shop and about how Makoto couldn't cook for the life of him. He stayed until way past La Petite Mort's actual closing time, and sometimes he'd walk Haru to the train and watch him take off, stomach in a disarray of exuberance from their evening together, and disappointment that they were parting.

He was getting to know Haru, and it was getting harder and harder with each encounter not to yank the shorter man forward by the front of his whale-printed sweater and kiss the living daylights out of him.

The sexual tension never really went away, and the more insight Makoto got to Haru's life and personality, the more he started to suspect these innuendos to be on purpose.

“We got in new condom flavours yesterday,” Haru told him one evening as Makoto was organising the DVDs in alphabetical order, just to have something to do.

“Don't tell me you want me to taste those, too?” Makoto said with a grin.

 _Busted_ , Haru thought, leaning back in his chair behind the counter and watching Makoto's figure from behind as he sorted through the films. He tilted his head to the side, fully taking in the gorgeous shape of the other man's body. From the broad expanse of his upper back, to the concave of his waist, and finally, the perfectly round little butt Haru had on more than one occasion day-dreamed about. He questioned how he was able to stay sane with this sight around so often, and briefly wondered about the parts of Makoto he had yet to see. There was one very specific part, the exact measurements of which Haru couldn't help but ponder as he chewed absent-mindedly on the tip of his pencil. It was rather funny how he could work in a place brimmed with shamelessly exposed body parts and sex toys day in and day out, none of it causing him to as much as bat an eyelash, but this one man effortlessly made his entire composure crack like brittle ice.

“Makoto,” he began quietly, but still loud enough for Makoto to hear him over the faint sound of a porno rolling on the large TV on the wall above the DVDs, “Time for a break. I want to show you how to put a condom on.”

Makoto froze where he stood and turned toward the other at a tentative speed. Haru fought back a smirk. “Oh. O-Oh... I don't really need a demonstration, thank you...” Makoto forced an uneasy laugh, “I know how to put one on.”

Haru stood up from his seat, grabbing a ribbed condom from the little bowl beside the cash register. He walked over to the plastic penises, eyeing them pensively before picking out one he considered to be about average size. “It's part of my job to be able to explain and demonstrate to a certain degree how our items are used, you know,” stated the cashier as he ripped the edge off the condom wrapping.

“S-Sure,” Makoto stammered, approaching Haru slowly, like an anxious deer, “But really, Haru, I don't need demonstration...”

“Let me practice.”

“...Practice.” Makoto repeated, “Practice... putting on a condom.”

“Practice customer advising. I need to be able to roll this on flawlessly. Now come over here and watch me do it.”

Makoto swallowed, feeling as if his throat was full of cotton. Nevertheless, he tip-toed over to where Haru was plucking the condom out of the plastic before resting it against the head of the dildo. He glanced up, making eye-contact with Makoto as he began to roll the condom down over the faux penis.

Another swallow. His throat refused to unclench.

“Y-You seem to know your thing, Haru.”

“That's an understatement.” He allowed a malicious bend of his lips.

There was a pause. “G-Good to know...”

Once Haru was done, he rolled the condom back off, walked back to the cash register to grab a few more condoms, and picked out a larger dildo. This time, the condom was not ribbed, but citrus-flavoured with a matching mandarin print. The procedure repeated itself, Haru skilfully sliding the condom onto the dildo, before removing it and moving on to a different kind of condom, as well as a differently shaped or sized plastic dick. Makoto eventually began watching with sincere interest, not even struggling with arousal or anything. Haru's hands worked with such exemplary ease, and it reminded him of how Haru had told him he was also a painter. Makoto had yet to see any of his works, but he got the feeling they ought to be of tremendous quality.

However, after a few rounds, Haru reached this one specific vibrator Makoto had internally mused held an irrefutable similarity to his own member, and while it had been nothing but a laughable coincidence before, it now made warmth sweep across his face and his neck, inappropriate imagery filling his head as Haru's hands encircled the head and pressed down.

Haru, of course, noticed the way the apples of Makoto's cheeks intensified in hue, and the way the brunet seemed unable to choose which leg to rest his weight on. With a subtle tug of his lips, he finally let his gaze fall from the other's face, content that he had figured out Makoto’s size without having had to undress a single one of his garments. 

* * *

 

Haru was getting impatient with how Makoto continued to react to his innuendos— _strongly,_ that was—but without initiating any progress on the matter of getting into each other's pants. He still firmly believed that Makoto was equally attracted to Haru as Haru was to him, but the man would only allow his eyes to rove Haru's assets when he thought the latter was not looking. And whenever Haru made a _clear_ point of wanting the brunet's cock in his mouth, he turned flustered and shy. _He's too well-behaved_ , Haru concluded, but was confident in his ability to change that. He had been informed that Makoto was by all means available, and the man did not seem like the type of guy to lie about being single. Therefore, no worry existed in Haru's mind that the evident shame Makoto harboured had anything to do with cheating.

In other words, he was free to perform his attempts at wooing the brunet, and had decided to go about it in a (debatably) classy yet unmistakable way.

...However, a person could only take so much beating around the bush, and thus he began to grow rather bold in his moves.

Meanwhile, Makoto was spending a lot more time cleaning up and organising the shelves than actually buying any of the products. Haru shook his head as the man re-arranged the costumes on the shelves into neat piles, noting to himself that Makoto stopped being a customer a long time ago, somehow turning himself into an unpaid worker instead. Although, perhaps he considered this payback for all the time he spent with Haru. It certainly felt like the kind of sentimental reasoning Makoto was prone to making. It made something within Haru's chest flicker to life, warming his entire body pleasantly.

Watching him scampering around doing Haru's work for him sort of made the cashier a little guilty, though, and so he heaved a sigh, standing up to help Makoto finish his refined organising job. He began arranging the butt plug boxes more symmetrically, before noticing a somewhat large rip in the cardboard sign above the shelf. With a click of his tongue, Haru reached behind himself and grasped Makoto's sleeve. The brunet turned to him with an inquiring “hm?”

“Makoto, could you get the tape for me? It's in the bin on your side of the costume shelf.”

“Sure,” Makoto mumbled and looked around, finding the plastic container beneath the wall shelf, stuffed with gems, staplers and all kinds of other office gadgets. “Wow.” he breathed out in amusement at the sight.

“I was going to organise that,” Haru explained, “But I figured that if I waited long enough, Kisumi would do it for me.”

Makoto laughed and began to dig his hand into the bin. “It's unlike you to be lazy, Haru.”

“I'm not,” the man countered, finishing the costume-arranging as Makoto delved deeper for the tape, “I just don't think I should do both of our work. And neither should you,” he said with an intense glare thrown over his shoulder.

“Well,” Makoto began quietly, “I just... figured I had to compensate for all the time I spent here without buying anything, you know...”

Haru sighed softly, putting his lips in between his teeth.

“Man...” Makoto laughed sheepishly, “How deep am I gonna have to go...!”

Haru turned back to the butt plug stand. “Balls deep.” he mused to himself, and flinched slightly as the brunet broke into a shameless laughing fit behind him. Haru simply went on to fiddle with the costume packages, impressed by the tidiness Makoto had accomplished.

“Oh! Found it.” Makoto stood up, a roll of tape in his hands that he handed to Haru with tears of laughter still donning the corners of his eyes. Haru quickly bandaged the poor sign, and went to put the tape in one of the counter drawers instead of the atrocious trash heap that was their plastic bin.

“You should sit down,” Haru muttered as he walked back to the costume shelf, “Stop doing other people's work. I could get you some tea or something, if you'd like.”

Makoto smiled, entertained by the offer of tea instead of Dick Popsicles. “I'm fine, thank you.”

Haru pouted a bit, prodding a packaged dog costume with a finger. Makoto glanced over.

“Some of these are so weird... I mean, a dog? Are people really into that?”

“You have no idea,” Haru picked the dog suit up and inspected it further, “There are much worse ones. Cow suits, fox suits... There's an accountant one, too.”

Makoto laughed incredulously. Haru put the dog costume back and let his gaze travel across the rows of clothing, feeling a spark inside as his eyes fell upon a frilly, mint green maid outfit. He straightened his back and picked it up delicately, looking at the other man almost coyly.

“I think you'd like this one, though.”

“Stop trying to sell me stuff, Haru,” Makoto shook his head with a grin, not catching the suggestiveness Haru's words were laced with.

“Really,” he took a step closer, “Whether you put it on yourself, which I bet would look...” he made a show of examining Makoto from head to toes, “ _great_. Or if you put it on... Somebody else...”

Makoto watched him in silence, eyes half-lidded and goose bumps visible down the curve of his neck. Haru was curious to find out how far beneath his shirt they travelled.

“Somebody else...?” Makoto mirrored weakly, and Haru took another miniscule step closer, nodding his head just a tad. Makoto's eyes were boring through his very skin, and he knew the man would pick up any gesture—intentional or otherwise—no matter their size. If Haru were to be honest, he had grown to truly love whenever he managed to get Makoto's attention locked on him and him only. He drank it up like a huge glass of ice water on a scorching summer day.

“Anyone you'd like,” Haru breathed, words falling against Makoto's shoulder before he turned his head away to gaze down at the outfit in his hands. Fervent emerald was still all but chained to him though, and there was no doubt what kind of thoughts he had put in Makoto's head.

Haru exhaled slowly, audibly, before putting the maid outfit back on the shelf, glancing up at Makoto one last time through his lashes—the way he knew made the brunet's face turn a vibrant shade of red—and returned to sit on his stool behind the counter. He slid a macha flavoured Dick Popsicle out of his pocket (he always kept one close at hand nowadays, just in case), tore the wrapping off nonchalantly and began licking the length of the lollipop.

A badly hidden groan could be heard from the brunet before he attempted to speak without his voice wavering, and failed, a shaky “I-Is that macha?” falling from his lips.

“Mhm,” Haru hummed around the candy, pulling it out with a wet noise, “Yours was delicious. I couldn't help but want more.”

Haru could hear a faint “Oh my god...” whispered by the other man, clearly not meant for his ears. Makoto then cleared his throat, walking over the opposite side of the counter. He rested his arms on the surface of it, head hanging low with a grin of disbelief splitting his cheeks. “You know...” he began, and Haru waited attentively for him to continue, sucking his lollipop idly, “Sometimes I think... No, never mind.”

Makoto looked up at him, smile bleeding into a curve of nervousness, his eyebrow twitching once as he seemed to struggle keeping Haru's gaze. Haru noted internally that Makoto's cheeks were the same colour as the flushed tip of his popsicle.

“What?” Haru probed, sounding almost bored despite his sincere curiosity.

Makoto simply shook his head. “It's nothing. It's... It's stupid, really.”

Haru watched him for a long time, attempting to drag the words out of him with a single stare, but failing. After what seemed like a week at _least_ had passed in silence, he spoke up, voice close to a whisper. He'd found that it was often reduced to that when they were alone. Not much else was needed for Makoto to hear him, after all. “I want to know. Tell me.”

A huff of amusement left the brunet. “You're awfully insistent.”

“It seems important.”

“Trust me,” Makoto shook his head yet again, “It's not. Just some silly... misconception.”

“About me?” Haru raised his eyebrows, sliding the candy in between his lips once more. Makoto watching the gesture did not go lost on him.

Slowly, Makoto nodded his head, eyes still on Haru's work-swollen lips.

“Then I deserve to know,” Haru murmured around the lollipop.

“I...” Makoto rocked forward and back again on his heels, “I guess you're right...”

Sitting up straight on his little chair, Haru leaned his elbows on the counter, mirroring Makoto. He dared a vague smile, lollipop still in his mouth, and leaned forward slightly. He could see Makoto swallowing, before leaning forward too, just a tad. He was obviously hesitant, incredulous, but eager all the same. “Sometimes you think... what?”

“Sometimes I think... perhaps you... um, perhaps you're,” Makoto's eyes fleeted back and forth, from Haru's lips to his inviting eyes. He found the courage to tip himself forward a bit more, leaving only a few inches between their faces. Haru dragged the lollipop over his tongue, leaving a bleary, green hue at his tongue from the macha filling. Again, Makoto was watching. “Sometimes I get the feeling you're... giving me these... hints...”

Haru made a show of cocking his head to the side, blinking in an almost child-like fashion.

“As if you're trying to tell me...” Makoto went on, voice so quiet and absent-minded Haru wasn't sure he was aware of himself still speaking.

The black-haired man closed another few inches, shivers caressing the expanse of his back as Makoto's breath landed on the hand holding his lollipop. Removing it from his mouth, Haru let his stare flicker to Makoto's ajar mouth, only for a handful of seconds, wordlessly conveying approval.

And he could see that Makoto got it.

“Haru... Are you, um,” the brunet started again, fingers brushing the skin of Haru's arm, “Are you? Giving me... hints, I mean...”

“I...” Haru began, unsure of whether to drag this game out any longer, tell Makoto to find out for himself, or if he should give it up right there, reaching his finish line in advance. The choice did not seem to be his, however, as his sentence was interrupted before it had really started, the sound of Kisumi whistling coming from the back door. Approaching rapidly.

The moment the door swung open behind Haru, Makoto flew about fifty meters into the air, face a little too alike a strawberry in colour than what was surely healthy, and heart beating so viciously it nearly echoed throughout the room. Haru leaned back in his chair, exasperation and disappointment burning like a growing bonfire inside him. As soon as Makoto was out of there, he was going to kill Kisumi with his own bare hands.

As expected, Makoto hastily bid them both farewell, ignoring Kisumi's inquiring of why his cheeks were so red, and made a beeline for the door. It seemed he would not accept complete defeat, however. Stopping abruptly with one hand on the door, Makoto peeked over his shoulder and called out for Haru with a slight reluctance to his wobbly voice.

Haru threw a warning glare at Kisumi, who seemed to get the hint. With a delighted hum, Kisumi excused himself, gathered whatever things he had come to fetch, asked Haru if he was locking up and then disappeared out the back door again. If Haru knew him correctly, though, he didn't go any farther than that, but was instead pressing his ear to the other side of the door at that very moment.

Haru sighed and waved Makoto closer. Slowly but surely he neared the counter, running a hand through his sandy brown hair. “Would you, ah... Would you like to exchange... e-mails... maybe?” Makoto asked a bit anxiously, scratching his chin with a finger. Haru felt his insides flip with elation, and nodded a bit quicker than his cool, seductive masquerade would have liked. Makoto released an endearingly relieved sigh as Haru fished a pen and a piece of paper from a drawer, scribbling his e-mail address in neat handwriting. He gave Makoto his own little note to write on, and they parted after that, both clutching their respective papers tautly and struggling to keep their smiles at bay. Makoto's heart was still in a frenzy, however, and Haru made sure to hit the back of Kisumi's head _hard_ before leaving that night. 

* * *

 

[20:35:17] Haru:  
We re-stocked on toys yesterday and there's this new kind that needs to be tested. I can't do it alone.

[20:38:02] Makoto:  
so you want my help? ^^

[20:39:20] Haru:  
If you don't mind.

[20:42:19] Makoto:  
of course not! but, um... what exactly do you mean by 'testing'?

[20:45:05] Haru:  
Don't worry about it. I'll show you tomorrow.

[20:46:22] Makoto:  
haha, mysterious as always~ see you then, haru!

[20:48:02] Haru:  
Yeah, see you. 

* * *

 

As it turned out, “testing” was just as ominous as it had sounded.

Makoto had been astonished by the fact that they were open on a Saturday, but as he turned up at La Petite Mort, he realised that they were in fact not. The blinds were shut and the usually illuminated sign above the door was turned off, making Makoto scrunch his nose in puzzlement; was Haru playing some sort of prank on him? It didn't quite seem like his thing.

Nevertheless, Makoto gently pushed at the front door, which opened with its usual ease, and he stepped into a very much familiar space, but a wholly unfamiliar atmosphere. The room was darker than usual, and there was no music playing in the speakers, nor any x-rated movies showing on the screen on the wall. But, as per routine, Haru was seated behind the counter, flipping through the pages of a magazine. Makoto smiled slightly at the sight, closing the door securely behind himself and walking up to the other.

“Hey,” he greeted cheerfully, his stomach performing its usual circus acts the moment Haru's eyes met his.

“Hi,” came the reply, and then Haru was on his feet. “It's out the back.” He began to walk toward the back door.

Makoto waited patiently for his return, half-sitting on the outer side of the counter, eyes roving his surroundings absent-mindedly. He had never noticed before that the walls were a dark cerise colour, but he guessed it somehow complimented the overall theme.

Haru soon returned with slow steps, stopping in the door opening to lean against the frame. He held the carton box with the toy behind him, and waited with lowered eyes for Makoto to turn to him. Once he did, they shared a silent minute, before Makoto swallowed and stood up straight. Haru looked more timid than Makoto had ever seen the man before, but it somehow allured him. The brunet was curious as to what this _toy_ really was, and what _testing_ insinuated. Judging by the sudden coyness of the man, could it be...?

Haru took the final steps between the door and the cash register, heaving a deep breath and dropping the box onto the desk. He had been absolutely certain he was reading the signals right—especially with Makoto's assertiveness during their previous encounter—but his nerves were getting the better of him now. Even as he refused to back down, his digits trembled while gliding across the top of the box, and he found it impossible to lift his gaze.

Makoto had yet to say a word.

“It's a, uh,” Haru tried, but it seemed his brain was short-circuiting. He was usually so certain and curt with his words, stoicism all but unbreakable. But Makoto had been messing with his modus operandi ever since they first met, and it was hard for Haru to know where to go from here, even with how carefully he had planned this whole thing. “It's... it's a—”

“I can see what it is, Haru,” Makoto interrupted, his voice firm enough to make Haru's head snap up in surprise. It almost sounded _disapproving_ , and it made something sink in Haru's gut, but once he caught sight of the intense carmine of Makoto's cheeks and ears, his muscles relaxed again.

He hummed lowly, “So, will you help me... assess its capacity?”

“Haru...” Makoto pressed his palms flat against the counter, and it felt like an eternity later when he finally lifted them again, covering his own face with his hands and nodding, “Of... O-Of course I will...”

Haru felt a little dumb-founded, despite having expected this very answer. He rounded the counter, stopping only a few inches away from Makoto, the box clutched in between his hands. “Really?” he watched as Makoto nodded again, and then pressed the package against the brunet's chest. “Then, open it for me.”

Makoto hesitantly peeled his hands from his face and shakily took the box into his hands, beginning to pluck at the sealing until it opened. He desperately willed his hands to stop trembling, but to no avail. As if wanting to reassure him, Haru's own hands came up to rest on Makoto's arms, the weak weight of them inexplicably supportive. As he fully unlatched the toy from its packaging, green irises flitted upwards to find Haru's blues. They stared at each other intensely as Makoto began to back him up against the counter, dropping the box to the floor.

He breathed a little laughter against Haru's lips, glancing down momentarily to the double-sided dildo clutched in between his own fingers.

Haru's hands still held onto his upper arms, and Makoto allowed his free palm to cup one of Haru's warm cheeks. It was weird how he could have gone so long without touching Haru any more than on occasion grazing his hands or his arms by accident. He realised now just how much he had been craving the texture of Haru's bare skin against his fingertips, and instantly wished to explore it further.

“We're both going to need proper preparation,” Haru mustered quietly, “But luckily...” he looked around them slowly, the corners of his lips tugging slightly upwards, “We have plenty of equipment for that.”

Makoto let out a light chuckle. His nervousness was still very much present, but it mingled with his excitement in an undeniably delicious way, spurring him on. Unable to form any coherent reply to Haru's little remark, he brought their foreheads together and boldly pressed his lower torso against Haru's, eliciting a gasp from the other. He could feel that, much like himself, Haru was already semi-hard. The knowledge sent pleasant sparks rolling across his skin.

“I can't _believe_ ,” Makoto breathed out against the other's face, “I let you _torture_ me for so long.”

Haru bit his bottom lip and noiselessly pushed their clothed lengths together another time. Makoto choked on a breath, but froze before he could reciprocate the action as Haru tentatively placed a kiss by the corner of his parted lips. _That's it_ , flew through the mess that was currently Makoto's mind, and he captured the cashier's lips in a full kiss, loving the way the hairs on his neck stood on edge and how Haru's hands grasped at his biceps even tighter.

They both grew more and more desperate, Makoto sucking Haru's lips as if wanting to challenge those lollipops in a lip-dyeing contest, whilst Haru clawed at Makoto's clothes in a rather frenzied manner. He managed to unbuckle both of their pants, remove his own shirt and open Makoto's button-up (without tearing any of the tiny buttons off) within the span of what couldn't have been more than a minute. If Makoto hadn't been busy biting the other's bottom lip, he might have taken some time to express his astonishment.

The brunet was fairly certain he could get legitimately drunk off of the sounds Haru was making. They dizzied him at a speed alcohol had never been able to, and it was excruciating and divine both at once. He absolutely adored knowing he was the one causing every little gasp and moan that fell from the other's lips, and drank them up desirously as his hands slid across Haru's exposed upper body.

Soon, Haru had pushed his pants and boxers out of the way, and held a firm grasp of Makoto's cock, which was almost hard enough to hurt. Makoto let his lips travel further down, spoiling the column of Haru's throat with open-mouthed kisses as the latter tugged at his erection, pumping groans from his body. To compensate for his own nakedness, Makoto hooked his fingers in the hem of Haru's trousers and his underwear, dragging them down to mid-thigh.

“Can you spread your legs a little?” Makoto murmured against the base of his neck, and the hand around his cock stilled for a moment as Haru pulled his pants farther down, increasing the space between his feet. It then occurred to Makoto that they had yet to acquire lubrication, but he knew there should have been some at the other side of the counter—a kind that, according to a certain store clerk, made you “glide like a dolphin.”

He settled for massaging Haru's buttocks with his hands for the moment, however, and watched over the dark-haired man's shoulder the awaiting toy that lay disposed on the counter top. There was a twist in Makoto's gut as he truly realised the purpose of it, and that he'd be using it with _Haru_ at that, too. He grunted into the bend of the other's neck at the thought, apprehensive but impatient nonetheless.

“Lube,” Haru choked out then, voicing Makoto's thoughts from just a minute ago, “It's on the other side, in the drawer...”

“Come on,” Makoto panted, ushering Haru to the adjacent side without releasing him or ceasing the lavishing of his milky white throat. Only once they were positioned beside the little stool did he lift his face from the other's skin, reaching into a little cabinet and finding the sunset lubrication. Haru lay his face against Makoto's shoulder, a yearning whimper rolling off of his tongue. Makoto chuckled quietly. “Spread your legs again?”

Haru did as told, toeing his shoes loose and kicking his bottoms off completely. He shuddered in pleasure as Makoto's hands were once again on his butt, squeezing generously.

The brunet landed a peck onto Haru's burning cheek. “Sorry I'm being greedy, but to be honest,” Makoto turned his face toward Haru's ear to whisper softly, “I've wanted your ass for quite some time now.”

Haru all but _moaned_ against his clavicle. “You... You can't have it...”

“No?” Makoto bit down gently at his earlobe, slipping a finger in between Haru's ass cheeks.

“M-Mm,” Haru shook his head, “You have to earn it,” he said, and Makoto pulled back with furrowed brows, before realising Haru had grasped the dildo in one of his hands.

“Ah,” he breathed in understanding, and gave the man's butt another covetous squeeze before removing his hands completely. “That's right, we're here to try out your new toy.” Makoto looked down, watching Haru's erection twitch slightly between them. He clasped the lube again, pouring a thick amount into his hand and letting some fall off the edge of his palm in a chilly tendril onto Haru's cock. The cashier sucked in a breath at the piercing cold, jabbing Makoto lightly in the side with the dildo.

“Sorry, sorry,” Makoto laughed (although he wasn't really), before snaking his arms around Haru once again, a digit now coated heavily with the gel making its way in between his buttocks. Haru hissed at the intrusion, but welcomed it even so by jutting his hips backwards. Suddenly missing the taste of him, Makoto collided their lips once more into a kiss that soon assumed a lazy tempo.

Haru's slender fingers resumed their grip of his erection, stroking him at a calm pace that matched the kiss. It wasn't long until Haru grew unsatisfied with the inarguably small distance Makoto's fingers reached into him from their current position, however, and drew his head back with swollen, cherry-red lips and eyes that demanded improvement. Makoto blinked at him for a moment before the cashier turned around, leaning over the counter and laying his head down on it with a low mewl.

Makoto found it hard to believe this was all reality, but didn't dare pinch himself in case it was really just a dream, after all. He had to know how it ended if it were. Thus, he complied with the unspoken request, pushing one of Haru's cheeks aside with a hand and recommencing his work of stretching him.

Makoto pushed two fingers as far inside as they'd go, stopping once Haru's hips lifted into the air, accompanied by a frail exclaim. Then, he twisted his fingers this way and that, leaning down to peck the small of Haru's back whilst.

He drew his fingers out almost entirely, before pressing them back in again, bending them, and repeating the whole procedure. Once Haru's badly muffled moans started to fade, he entered a third finger, continuing on with his strategy in a seemingly endless cycle, which neither of them were able to tire of, by the looks of it.

After the fourth finger, Makoto figured Haru was as much as ready, and while worrying his lips in between his teeth, he reached out for the dildo, covering it in slick lubrication. He let a hand smooth over the expanse of Haru's perky butt, before positioning the toy against his entrance and pushing it in. Haru's muscles tensed and he drove his forehead into the surface of the counter, mouth falling open but not spilling any sounds.

“Does it hurt?” Makoto asked, mesmerized by the sight before him.

Haru shook his head and shivered visibly. “N-No... It feels weird, but it's not... painful.”

The brunet tipped his head forward to leave another kiss on Haru's behind, twirling the dildo around as he continued to force it forward. Haru whined against the wood of the desk, planting his feet farther apart on the floor.

“I'm not supposed to be the only one— _ah_ —taking this thing, you know...” he reminded, and Makoto couldn't help but rut forward, his dripping cock sliding against Haru's left bum cheek as the image filled his head anew, sending torrents of exhilaration through his body.

“I know,” Makoto shook his head, “God, I know.”

“S-So,” Haru made a little slurping noise, having started to drool onto the counter, “Let me prepare you, too.”

 

 

Makoto left the toy inside Haru even as they switched positions behind the desk, making him promise to keep it inside for the entirety of the session. Unfortunately (or otherwise) for Haru, Makoto had discovered by chance that there was a vibrating option to top it all, and pressed the button for the lowest setting before laying himself against the counter, only half-dreading Haru's revenge.

Haru knew from experience that this level of tremors wasn't much to brag about, but it was enough to torment him regardless. His temple was pressed against the curve of Makoto's spine as he fingered him from behind, both of them twitching and stuttering broken calls of each other's names.

Haru was slower to stretch him, mind preoccupied with the currents of pleasure spreading throughout his body like tidal waves from the dildo buzzing inside him. It was nearly impossible to leave his own cock alone; he ached for release, but was also dead-set on letting Makoto give it to him, and so he kept his hands solely on said man to the best of his ability. He squeezed a fourth finger into Makoto's slippery entrance, his other hand caressing the brunet's thigh up and down.

“Haru...” Makoto panted against the wooden surface, “I think that's enough...”

Haru grunted and kissed his back in response, before standing up straight and slipping his fingers out of him. Makoto hissed at the sudden loss, arms trembling as he pushed himself upright and turned around.

“Ah, won't the floor be uncomfortable?” he eyed the ground sceptically, and Haru replied with a low hum.

“The yes-no pillows,” Haru inclined his head toward one of the shelves, “We can take a pair of those for support.”

“I'm not sure using any unopened props—well, save for this one—would be such a good idea, Haru,” Makoto scratched his chin, gesturing to the vibrator still in Haru's ass.

The cashier cocked an eyebrow. “I'll just take some off my salary, no big deal.”

“Haru...”

“It's like ¥1,500, Makoto. And you can't seriously be saying you'd rather stop than rip that off my paycheck.”

Makoto squirmed a bit where he stood, thumbing Haru's hipbone absent-mindedly. “I guess...” he muttered, but found himself convinced enough as Haru leaned in to capture his lips with his own, sucking on them rather generously and releasing with a wet pop that reminded Makoto of all the lollipops Haru had agonized him with. _Cruel..._ “Okay, hold on,” he admitted his defeat, dropping a last peck on Haru's lips before scurrying off to pluck two unopened yes-no pillows off the shelf. Haru tore them from his hands the instant he was back by the dark-haired man's side, dismantling and dropping them to the floor before sitting down with one of them supporting the small of his back. He rolled his hips with a scrunched-up expression on his face, the vibrator still refusing to slip out of him; still quivering against his insides.

Makoto sat down as well, spreading his legs and pulling Haru closer by the hips. He leaned back against the counter and angled his own lower body just so, shivering as the free end of the dildo came into contact with his twitching hole.

“Ah...” he gasped, Haru's eyes watching him intently as they pushed their hips closer together. “Oh god...”

“How does it feel?” inquired the cashier, arms quaking much alike the vibrator from the exertion of holding him up.

Makoto released a nervous chuckle. “Ah, shit... It's vibrating, so it's— _oh_ , fuck,” he shut his eyes tightly, head falling back against the counter.

A drawn-out moan spilled from Haru's lips and he rocked his hips towards Makoto jerkily, forcing the dildo farther into both of them. It was maddening, Makoto found, the odd enjoyment of sharing something so exquisitely dirty with Haru, whom he had grown to adore in ways he was still unable to clearly label or explain.

Their legs overlapped each other and sweat was dripping down the both of their bodies, arms beginning to ache and hips rutting in infrequent, desperate movements. Despite this, Makoto felt as if he could go on forever, the image displayed before him addictive like nothing else: Haru's entire body was exposed for him to gawk at to his heart's content, ivory skin glistening, lips swollen and parted to let endless bouts of indecency fall from them. Haru's hair was dishevelled, bangs slicked to his forehead, and his chest heaved up and down with each harsh breath and deep moan. Makoto's jaw hardened as he let his eyes rove even lower, taking in the full sight of Haru's erect cock bobbing up and down with each uncoordinated thrust, hips twitching, a hand leaving its position on the floor to curl around Haru's flushed length.

Makoto licked his lips. “That won't do, Haru,” he all but growled, voice husky and yearning, as he swatted Haru's hand away to replace it with his own. Since he was seated with his back against the counter, his hands were free to do as they pleased. “Tell me... _mmh_... Tell me if you're coming, okay?”

“O-Okay,” Haru panted, hips no longer rocking back and forth as much as jerking uncontrollably.

Makoto stroked the other man's shaft with one hand, cupping his balls with the other and massaging them gently. It seemed Haru was rather close to climax, and just the concept of being the one to tip him over the edge made Makoto's insides burn with a fierce gratification.

“Makoto—Ma... _Makoto_ ,” Haru whined, spine going rigid like a flagpole.

“It's all right, Haru,” Makoto bit his lip, hissing his words through his teeth, “Mmm... You can come, it's all right. Come for me, Haru.”

“Oh god, Ma... _Ah_!” Haru shot forward, body curving over their asses slapping together with each convulsive thrust, and he let his head dip against Makoto's chest, the dildo sliding halfway out of Haru as he clenched together, coming all over his own lower stomach and both of Makoto's hands.

“ _Haru_...”

“Ah... I'm, oh, _I'm_...” Haru breathed out in a high-pitched, feeble voice, hands clutching Makoto's calves hard. “Aah, next time... I want it to be yours.”

“Fuck,” Makoto swore through gritted teeth, “Don't say that—don't—”

Haru moaned low in his throat, lifting his head to gaze at Makoto through those coal lashes of his, and he smirked, a pearl of saliva resting below his bottom lip. “It's your turn,” he purred, encircling Makoto's cock with a firm hand, “ _Come for me_.”

And he did. Hard. Splattering them both with his fluids, Makoto orgasmed with a quiet, sharp intake of air, every single muscle in his body strained and spasmodic. Haru seemed pleased, humming quietly and leaning further forward to kiss a trail across Makoto's cheek and down his jawline, until he was suckling a conspicuous purple onto the skin beneath his ear. When he deemed the bruise fulfilled, he bit it softly and kissed it in apology.

“Haru,” Makoto heaved, resting his forehead on the other's shoulder, “Turn it off, I'm, _fuck_...”

Without a word, Haru pressed the off button on the vibrator, and they both slumped in relief, but continued to tremble against each other for a few tranquil instances.

Swallowing despite the dryness of his throat, Makoto spoke up again after a minute or two, his voice a bit hoarse. “Was that, hah, enough _assessment of capacity_ for you?”

“Mhm,” Haru replied lowly, nuzzling their cheeks together in what struck Makoto as a slightly feline manner. “The toy is definitely good enough for marketing, and you, for keeping.”

“Haru!” Makoto exclaimed indignantly, squeezing the other man's knees as some sort of reprimand. It was a fruitless endeavour, however, as Haru's response was nothing more than a short chuckle.

A few more minutes passed in verbal silence, their erratic breathing beginning to stabilise. After a while, Makoto spoke with hesitation in his voice. “Um… This isn’t… something you have to do regularly, right?”

“Test the toys, you mean?” Haru sat back a bit, a hand smoothing up and down Makoto’s thigh, “It’s not a requirement, no.”

Makoto bit his bottom lip. “Ah. So it’s just me then.”

“Don’t get too full of yourself,” Haru reached up to pinch the tip of Makoto’s nose, drawing a giggle out of the man. “But, obviously.”

Makoto dipped forward to place a chaste kiss on Haru’s damp forehead, unable to hold himself back at that word: _obviously_. As in, obviously he was the reason Haru wouldn’t be paid as much as usual this month; obviously he was the reason Haru had consumed at least a hundred Dick Popsicles these last few weeks, despite not being that big on sweets.

“You’re my ticket straight to hell, you know that?” he murmured against the other’s cheek, hips squirming a bit uncomfortably what with the toy still inside of him. Although Haru had claimed to want to test its ability, Makoto was more than certain it was not compatible for selling anymore. _Oh well_ , he thought, _I can’t exactly say I’d mind it if we have to keep it for ourselves._

Haru huffed in pretence crossness at the little accusation, but leaned into the feeling of Makoto’s cheek against his own nonetheless, whispering, “You'll enjoy the ride.”

**Author's Note:**

> "La Petite Mort" is a french idiom for orgasm, the literal translation of which is "the little death"
> 
> ty liz for ur endless supply of innuendos & ty shinx for beta'ing! (does peace sign)


End file.
